The Cruelest Fate
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.
Author's Note: This story is officially a series of episodes written when I especially feel like writing in this. I realized I have not written a scene between Drizzt and Maz in a long time, that and I listened to Marilyn Manson's song "Spade" (the song title actually being the card symbol for spade, but anyway...) which I have always connected with their relationship, so I finally had to put that on paper.
Chapter 4: Rains
Burn your empty rain down on me. Whisper your deathbeat so softly. We bend our knees At the altar of my ego.
You drained my heart, and made a spade. There's still traces of me in your veins.
-Marilyn Manson, "Spade"
Drizzt was running though the woods, the twigs breaking under his feet matching the sounds of his laughs as he sprinted through the mist-veiled woodland.
Catti-brie was laughing as well, her voice music matching the song of the wind through the trees. She was wearing her simple brown leather trousers and that long, white shirt she loved to wear during off times. She called back a few taunts about being faster than an elf, inspiring Drizzt to quicken his pace a little. At last he was gaining on her.
He reached forward, two fingers catching her flowing tunic briefly before she laughed harder and pulled away, though her pace was slowed. At last Drizzt caught more of his energy, jumping forward and grabbing throwing his arms around her waist. She gave a light scream before doubling over in laughter finally allowing her husband to grab hold of her.
Drizzt said something to her, but the words were lost in the wind. Her muscles tensed from laughing so hard though she finally calmed down and started to turn around. Catti-brie's face turned around and greeted him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Her beautiful blue eyes gazed into his with the aura of purest love as she looked upon her husband, leaned in, and pressed her lips to his.
Drizzt was enveloped in the warmest, most tender moment he had ever known…warm as the flowing wetness down his hands. He gradually looked up and saw Catti-brie's beautiful blue eyes well with streams of blood as blood poured from her nose and the smiling corners of her mouth. The hole in her neck deepened and gushed forth until her head collapsed from her neck and her body burst into flames.
The only sound he heard then was his own scream, which turned into a series of wails. He fell to the hard floor and clutched the wood, almost trying to force his fingers through it.
His wailing stopped, turning into a few harsh sobs that gradually lessened in intensity. He sighed, and looked up to see large drops of water plummeting off the wooden roof of his treehouse. Upon cloer inspection, the entire woodland was surrounded by a misty fog, the wet, yet cool air sneaking past the leather tarp he used for a door and awakened his senses a little more.
Whatever was out there was likely infinitely better than here, he thought.
---------------------
Drizzt occasionally had moments like this.
He sat in the high wet grass feeling the dew and remnants of the rain gradually seeping into his leather trousers. It was a comforting feeling, the feeling of the wet against his skin, the sound of the last drops of the storm pelting the grass and occasionally his hot face; soothing and unnerving at the same time.
The River Duathamper flowed a few inches from his bare feet, the heavy rain of the past tenday making the current strong enough to wash a small humanoid away if he were to just wade right in and allow himself to be taken out.
Drizzt gave a painful chuckle at the thought, merely keeping his eyes closed and letting the spring wind brush against his face. He was alone, or at least was under that impression. Even if a goodly assassin was waiting to spring, he couldn't have cared less. All he cared about was the lack of shouts, rustling of feet, and very aura of any sentient creatures around him at all.
For all he knew, Drizzt was completely alone; a comforting and crushing sensation all at the same time. He concentrated on the rush of the river, the rain pelting the grass, the gentle wind fighting the sticky air, and all the wet greenery around him. He managed a smile, feeling at one with the ground for at least a moment.
I'm sure she would appreciate you doing this, a small voice whispered in his mind, becoming one with the forest at last.
His eyes shot open as he growled, smacking the ground and flinching with a sudden sting. Drizzt didn't even bother looking down, instead he squeezed his injured hand and felt the thick warmth slowly ooze down; the most comforting sensation he had known in the past few hours.
He finally managed to open his hand and look down to see his dark-gray palm with a small stream of blood running down the center; the remains of a small twig embedded in the flesh between his index and middle finger. He examined the wound idly, thinking that he had reached to take the twig out, though such an event never occurred. Instead he sat, squeezing his hand harder and savoring the sting and the warm ooze flowing from his hand.
It was a source of concentration for him, the swirling mess inside his brain focused a little more.
Drizzt occasionally had moments like these; moments where the chaos and death he surrounded himself with occasionally swirled in a storm against him, catching him and every part of his being in the cyclone.
Though tonight there was one more factor, the spark in the smokepowder keg and it was the images he tried to block out yet decided to plague him tonight of all nights.
He concentrated on the heated air coming out of his lungs and making a thick vapor with the colder atmosphere. He would then take a gulping breath in, finally trying to find a little more focus though it was hardly working.
Drizzt stared at his hand, his other one coming forward and squeezing the palm slowly, sending out more cleansing pain and more of the warm blood. The twig then popped out, much to his chagrin. He continued squeezing his hand, the blood now a thick clot and the ache leaving…that was until the tip of a dagger was at the wound. It opened a little more then and more of the comforting blood leaked out.
He pressed harder, the ache even more pleasing and the blood was rushing down his hand in its own little river matching the white one flowing at his feet with drops down his hand like the steadier drops over the world.
You need that hand, you know, a tiny portion of sanity called in the furthest reaches of his brain. If Artemis saw you doing this he'd beat the ever-living hells out of you for giving into your weakness, if he didn't cripple you further.
The thought was reinforced by a slender ebony hand brushing the blade away. Before Drizzt knew what had happened, his arm was by his side as was the utility dagger. He managed to look up and see two small drow hands cupping his injured palm as a soft, shadowy glow emanated from them, closing the wound.
Drizzt knew who this was, yet a part of him didn't care. He merely sat, savoring the wetness of the grass while feeling the comfort of his numbness. At last a pair of large, ruby eyes was gazing into his framed by soft, champagne-blond hair. Drizzt sighed, breaking his numbness enough to register Mazn'reysla's scolding…concerned?...gaze. He looked disappointed, yet almost…loving?
One hand gently traveled from his palm and cupped the side of his hot face. The cleric leaned in further, letting his lips rub gently against his cheek.
"Wake up, khal abbil," Mazn'reysla's gentle voice sounded through his soul.
Drizzt looked at him cautiously. He was a cruel, capricious drow; the servant of a trickster god…and the warmest creature in his vicinity. Drizzt's perpetually armed guard lowered a little. If he meant to kill him, that was acceptable, instead he needed shelter from his own storm and any would do no matter how unreliable it may have been in reality.
Drizzt allowed his muscles to relax, collapsing forward into Mazn'reysla's arms, which wrapped around him; one hand gently caressing down the length of his bare back. Drizzt buried his head into the soft, gray robes and expected tears to come, though they were replaced by a heavy sigh.
His cheek rubbed against Mazn'reysla's and he locked him into a violent, passionate kiss; scraping his teeth against his lip and tasting the metallic salt of blood. It mattered not, he continued pressing in, forcing his tongue between his soft lips. Mazn'reysla was compliant and he swore he heard a happy sigh.
Drizzt took that as an invitation to continue further. He grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in, his hands coming to the collar of his robes and forcing them open. The cleric did little, just made a few more happy sighs as he gently laid Drizzt's back on the ground.
By now his robe was a pile on the grass and he felt the scrape of the natural cotton in his trousers against his skin as they were practically ripped down. Mazn'reysla gently kicked them off and picked at the strings of his partner's trousers as he groped every part of his nude body, scraping his short fingernails hard over his backside.
The cleric peeled his simply tanned trousers off, Drizzt feeling the sear of the wet material practically peeled off his skin. He clutched the cleric tighter, running his fingernails down his back and suddenly realizing his partner had stopped moving.
Drizzt slowly pulled away and looked up incredulously. Mazn'reysla was looking down at him, keeping him in a gentle grip yet not moving. Instead the light in his eyes danced a bit more, though he made no more movements. Drizzt was about to clasp onto him again, though his brain thought the better of it; it was a principle that surpassed any he had ever held.
Instead he took a few more deep breaths, staring into Mazn'reysla's patient eyes and forcing his muscles to unclench. The heat in his groin was a roaring fire, yet he felt a long draw of cool air draw into his lungs. He held onto the air for a second, then slowly let it out as his muscles finally relaxed.
The two locked stares, Mazn'reysla's calm pushing into him deep. The sudden relax of his facial features told the cleric much. Mazn'reysla let the moment linger; the juicy, perfectly calm moment between one act of passion and another. He was watching a dangerous, chaotic creature take a few breathes before taking his prey, savoring the moment before it was spent.
Maz smiled, caressing Drizzt's ebony, rain-streaked. The ranger gently moved his head lower, caressing the hand with his lips and drinking in every ounce of him. The cleric slowly moved his hands over his lover's muscled body, savoring the taught muscle and flesh of his chest before slowly moving lower. He positioned his hands on Drizzt's hips and lifted up, prompting him to arch his back.
Drizzt sighed, keeping his eyes on Mazn'reysla's calm face as he gently positioned his pelvis and entered. The sear indicated he had not used any oil beforehand, though Drizzt stopped noticing the second the numb bliss came over him.
Drizzt gently raised his hands, caressing his partner's lower back and easing himself to be at one with the bliss slowly spreading through. Mazn'reysla's thrust was gentle yet strong enough to be noticed. The ranger closed his eyes, arched his back, and laid his head against the grass.
"The river is running high tonight," Mazn'reysla said, his voice taking the hint of a sigh. "Its rush is calming."
Drizzt focused, drinking in the sound of the rushing river and feeling the wetness and itch of the grass against his back. The drops of rain fell from the air and pelted them both. His white hair pressed into the ground and he imagined his body a part of the earth.
His partner's thrust grew stronger and the sear returned enough to cleanse him. The very environment, every smell, every sensation, flowed in perfect harmony with the wave of bliss tightening his back muscles and relaxing the rest. He savored the press of soft, sweat-covered skin rubbing against his thighs. He arched his back upwards and managed to wrap his arms around Mazn'reysla's waist, forcing him in deeper. The thrust of his phallus and the feel of his toned muscles were like his new home; a place where he felt protected and sheltered from his many storms.
Drizzt sighed hard, feeling a tear come down his cheek as all his previous cares melted away. He gave into the waves of pleasure, opening his eyes slightly to see Mazn'reysla looking into his. His blond hair was mussed and sweat poured from his forehead, though he was even more beautiful.
The wave grew overwhelming, yet was far from over. A white, cleansing light shone through his brain…illuminating the image of a red-haired figure…
Drizzt dug his fingernails deeper into his lover's sides, concentrating on the thrust inside him and the soft ebony flesh of the one who held him now.
This is the present, he thought to himself, allowing the image of Catti-brie's smiling face fade with the white light in his brain. She is no longer on this plane, though I still am.
The image faded and the rush through every muscle in his body intensified as he gave out a few harsh moans. His warm bliss was further matched by the warm rush through his body, a clear indication that Mazn'reysla had released. He clutched harder, guiding himself on his lover more strongly until the wave took him over. He gave a clearing cry and felt his essence spill.
It was a sensation of cleansing, every ounce of blood and chaos melted from him in this wonderful moment. In the wave of fatigue, he laid down allowing Mazn'reysla's gently hand guide his back to the soft, wet grass. The cleric withdrew and Drizzt opened his eyes to see those locks of champagne-blond hair hanging over him dripping with rain. A pair of soft, red eyes was gazing through his soul.
Drizzt lifted a hand and caressed down his lover's cheek. Mazn'reysla melted at the touch, looking almost like a cat being patted.
"So you used my torment as a means to get off in the name of distracting me?" Drizzt said.
Mazn'reysla merely smiled.
"Feel better now?" thee cleric asked.
Drizzt sighed and gave a defeated nod.